


From the Auras of Aurors

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aurors Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are paired up on a stakeout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Auras of Aurors

Hermione’s barn owl, Apollo, hooted softly from his perch at the window to alert her that the car she was expecting had arrived. The petite witch hurriedly filled her thermos and grabbed a notebook and her keys before rushing out the door.

 

Snow crunched under her feet and her breath puffed white in the crisp, night air. Hermione pulled on her gloves and patted her thick coat pocket to make sure she had her wand as she descended the steps to the street. The car was a nondescript two-door sedan – standard Ministry issue. Hermione opened the door and plopped down into the passenger seat cheerfully enough but when she got a look at the other Auror, her good mood snapped like a dead bowtruckle.

 

The grey eyes of Draco Malfoy narrowed as Hermione’s greeting smile melted from her face.

 

“Malfoy,” she said, stiffly looking away from the wizard.

 

“Granger,” he replied, shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb.

 

Hermione imagined strangling Neville the next time she saw him. He was the Auror arranging the protection of Edward Appleton. Even though it’d been two years since Voldemort’s fall, surviving Death Eaters remained a serious threat. Edward, Muggle husband of the recently murdered Susan Bones, was believed to be in danger. And, for some reason, Neville had chosen Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger to watch the Appleton house for the night.

 

Tense silence filled the little car as it moved slowly through the empty, slushy streets. Hermione fidgeted, wondering what on earth Neville had been thinking, assigning Malfoy as her partner. She’d fully expected to be paired with Ron.

 

“I told Longbottom this was a bad idea,” Malfoy muttered, using the blinker to signal a right turn.

 

Hermione glanced at the wizard out of the corner of her eye; “At least we agree on that.”

 

The rest of the drive was quiet.

 

When Malfoy pulled the car through an empty lot across from the Appleton residence, Hermione made an astounding realization.

 

“ _You_ know how to drive?” she asked, wide-eyed.

 

Malfoy preened in self-satisfaction; “I wondered when you’d notice.”

 

“How did _that_ happen?” Hermione asked.

 

“Hours of practice,” the wizard drawled. He nodded towards the Appleton house; “You want to set up the protection charms or shall I?”

 

Hermione blinked, trying to retain her annoyance but failing as Draco rapidly changed the subject.

 

“I’ll do it,” she said gruffly, rolling down her window. She had hidden her wand up her sleeve so that she could remain somewhat inconspicuous while gesturing and muttering in public.

 

“Do you think we should Disillusion the car?” Hermione asked, biting her lip and adjusting the passenger-side mirror so that she had a decent view of the Appleton property behind them.

 

“I guess that depends on our goal. Do we want to draw out possible attackers or do we want to be seen and scare them off?”

 

Hermione was impressed. There was no way she’d admit it to the blond wizard beside her, but he was more skilled at this than she’d have ever given him credit for.

 

“We were ordered to protect, but catching Death Eaters should come first.”

 

He didn’t reply and Hermione shot him an inquiring glance. He was giving her a speculative look.

 

“I’m not _chicken_ if that’s what you’re thinking,” Hermione bit.

 

Malfoy shook his head; “ _Not_ what I was thinking.”

 

‘Then, what?’ Hermione wanted to demand. Instead, she bit her tongue and cast a Disillusionment charm on the vehicle.

 

Snow began to fall, bringing eerie silence with it. Within the cocoon of the hidden car, every sound of movement was magnified. Hermione stretched her back and cringed at how loud the vinyl seat squeaked. She could have sworn Malfoy was hiding a grin when he quickly turned his head.

 

Hermione melted the snow gathering on her mirror and peered closely at the house. A light was shining from a second-floor window. She reached for the door latch but Malfoy stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Wait, that could be Appleton,” he said peering intently at the mirror on his side. He drew his wand and turned awkwardly to lean over the seat and direct a spell at the house.

 

Hermione gazed in the direction of Malfoy’s wand but didn’t see anything.

 

After a moment, Malfoy righted himself; “It’s Appleton.”

 

“…”

 

“Alright, I’ll bite. What spell did you use?”

 

Malfoy grinned mischievously at Hermione; “One that a Divination dropout wouldn’t know…”

 

Hermione glared expectantly at him and he smirked; “It’s a simple aura check. He’s a Muggle, miserable and scared.”

 

“I was under a lot of stress,” Hermione snapped.

 

‘Oh. Are you still festering about that?’ the infuriating wizard’s expression seemed to ask.

 

“I remember… And that’s what happens when professors show favoritism.”

 

Confusion crinkled Hermione’s brow.

 

“You don’t think it’s a bit ridiculous that professors allowed a fourteen- year -old to exhaust herself to physical harm for the purpose of taking extra classes..?”

 

Hermione was aghast. Had that many intelligent words really just come from Malfoy’s mouth in one sentence? And how did he know so much?

 

“There was a bit more to it than that,” Hermione sputtered indignantly. “The Ministry  - what?” she demanded, catching sight of Malfoy’s immediate change of expression.

 

“If the Ministry was involved, I’m not surprised that a wizard’s – or witch’s – well-being went out the window.”

 

Hermione ogled Malfoy as if he were a fascinating, new spell book. Who was this smart, amiable wizard? Surely he wasn’t the Draco Malfoy that Hermione knew.

 

“It was research. It was for a greater good.”

 

Malfoy gave her a pointed look; “Because a Muggle-born witch at fourteen is much more expendable than a grown Unspeakable.”

 

After a slow blink, Hermione remembered that they were supposed to be on duty. She used her wand to direct the reflection of the passenger-side mirror directly at the residence.

 

She’d never thought of the fiasco of her third year that way. Malfoy was quite right: she’d been used.

 

Silence fell between them once more but it was familiar, if not comfortable. Hermione poured herself some of coffee from her thermos, relishing the hot liquid as she stared blindly at the Appleton house in her mirror. Her thoughts were lingering on Remus, spurred by memories of her third year.

 

“What say we nap in shifts?” Malfoy asked with a wink.

 

“Suit yourself,” Hermione said. She sipped her coffee slowly, waiting until the other Auror slept to pull out her charmed handbag. Within were the entire contents of her library. Harry and Ron scoffed but only in fun; they knew how useful it was to have Hermione’s library handy.

 

She tried to recall the exact location of ‘Unfogging the Future’, the only Divination book in her entire collection. It was bothering Hermione that Malfoy successfully employed a spell with roots in such a foolish magic as Divination.

 

The chapter on reading auras was short and filled with a lot of nonsense. Hermione distinctly recalled snorting as she had skimmed it many years ago. She found the related incantation.

 

“ _Candeo animus!_ ” she whispered, pointing her wand at the middle of Malfoy’s forehead, as instructed.

 

As colorful lights began to glow around the sleeping wizard’s body, Hermione anxiously hoped they didn’t wake him. He didn’t seem to notice that he was emitting multi-colored lights so Hermione turned back to the book.

 

Turquoise, yellow, green, blue… Hermione bit her lip, wondering why the colors flickered. The book laid out explanations by predominant color and Malfoy didn’t seem to have one.

 

Suddenly, Malfoy shifted, his head lolling onto his right shoulder. He ran a (glowing!) hand across his eyes and then settled again. Hermione gave a relieved sigh. The wizard murmured something and then his aura went orange with shots of rose through it.

 

Orange meant power and indicated a strong leader. Hm. Unexpected. And pink meant love. Hermione grinned as she read that again. Love..? Malfoy..?

 

She glanced curiously at the sleeping wizard.

 

Was it possible he was in love?

 

What an odd thought! Draco Malfoy in love... The wizard was full of surprises. What a human emotion for the ferret to fall victim to. Hermione almost felt bad for the man. Pansy was happily married… Every female Hermione could think of seemed to be paired-off and she felt even worse for Malfoy. She surmised that he must be in love with a taken witch.

 

The colorful glow began to fade, leaving Hermione to speculate over this new facet of Draco Malfoy in the dark. It was a terribly humanizing facet. She wondered what his life must be like. Why had he become an Auror? He was the sole heir of a wealthy family and son of a reformed Death Eater. Was it only to make a better name? And what kind of witch did Draco Malfoy find intriguing..?

 

Snow was falling. It gathered quickly and Hermione warmed patches of window so that she could still watch the house.

 

“So much for the Disillusion charm,” Malfoy yawned.

 

The wizard stretched and Hermione was disturbed to notice how much room he suddenly seemed to occupy.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

 

“Nothing,” Hermione said quickly.

 

“You’re upset about my nap – is that it?” he asked

 

Hermione shook her head, “No, no.” Why was she suddenly uncomfortable with him? She was aware that he was staring at her and chose to ignore him. She glared fixedly at the Appleton place in her mirror.

 

“I’m hungry,” Malfoy announced. “Are you hungry?”

 

Hermione nodded cautiously; it was a risk to admit weakness to a Slytherin. Would a Slytherin consider being in love a weakness?

 

“I only thought to bring coffee.”

 

“If you share that coffee with me, I’ll share a trade secret with you…”

 

Was he - was he _teasing_ her..? Hermione lifted a brow.

 

“I take it you’ve outgrown the idea that Muggle-borns carry disease,” she replied. She kept her tone light but she was most certainly baiting him. Hermione held out her thermos.

 

Malfoy snatched the bottle from her fingers without a word. Hermione waited until he had a steaming mug before prodding him for his ‘trade secret.’

 

“Got an owl?” he asked.

 

“Not in my pocket,” Hermione returned.

 

Malfoy turned a curious glare on her; “Something on your mind?”

 

“I’m having trouble accepting you behaving as if you didn’t despise me for the first seven years that we knew each other.”

 

“Do you want an apology?” he drawled.

 

“I’d prefer an explanation, actually.”

 

Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not very interesting.”

 

“Humor me,” Hermione grinned nervously. She hadn’t meant to put the man on the spot; she just wanted to understand him.

 

The wizard directed his wand at the driver’s side mirror, melting the gathered snow from it.

 

“I grew up, Granger. I realized that the opinions I had weren’t my own.”

 

He shot her a glance; “I told you it wasn’t interesting.”

 

“It’s remarkable,” Hermione said quietly. She’d had no idea. “How did it happen?”

 

“That’s quite personal, Granger. I didn’t realize we were such good friends.”

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m cursed with an undying thirst for knowledge,” she excused herself, glancing at her mirror. The house was quiet and snow was still falling.

 

“Summon your owl already, would you?” Malfoy smirked.

 

Hermione exchanged a grin with the wizard and silently called Apollo. Within a few minutes, the owl was beating its wings beside the vehicle, unsure where to perch in the snow. After unrolling the window, Hermione held out her arm. As soon as the window was closed, Malfoy turned the heat up again.

 

“May I?” the blond wizard asked, holding out his arm. He’d set his coffee on the dashboard.

 

“Go on,” Hermione gently urged her bird. Apollo hopped heavily from her to Malfoy.

 

“Do you know Malfoy Manor?”

 

Apollo hooted an officious affirmative.

 

“Fly to the kitchen and nibble twice on the house-elf there – she’ll know what it means. She’ll give you a package to bring back,” Malfoy said.

 

The owl fluffed his wings in understanding. Malfoy spelled his window permeable and Apollo whisked out into the silent, chilly night.

 

“Not very original, sending home for a hot meal,” Hermione taunted.

 

“Original, no; but, effective,” Malfoy replied with a quick, guileless grin.

 

Hermione glanced at her watch; only two hours had passed. Their relief wouldn’t arrive for six more hours. She pulled out her notebook and began to scribble a quick report for Neville.

 

“I think Susan Bones must have been the sole target,” Malfoy said.

 

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Hermione agreed distractedly. “If they wanted Edward dead, he’d have been attacked already. He’s a helpless Muggle.”  


The sound of Hermione’s scratching pen filled the quiet until Apollo’s return. The owl was hampered by a basket and flew rebelliously to Hermione’s window. As if to keep watch on his mistress, the bird perched in the backseat.

 

Malfoy enlarged the basket and pulled out plates. He shoved them at Hermione, knocking aside her notebook, and began piling food on them. Within moments, the two Aurors were feasting.

 

Hermione snuck suspicious glances at her fellow Auror. She was surprised by his civility and terribly curious about him.

 

“I’m not a bloody book, Granger,” Malfoy suddenly announced. “Stop trying to read me.”

 

He winked and Hermione realized that he was teasing her for staring.

 

“Thank you for dinner,” she said. She shrunk her magically-cleaned plate and utensils and put them back into the basket. With a stab of embarrassment, Hermione realized that she’d left her Divination book on the dashboard. She tried to keep the movement natural and unhurried as she plucked it up and slid it beside herself and the door.

 

“What are you doing with _that_ moldy thing?” Malfoy asked.

 

“Oh! I, er, I just wanted to look up that spell you used on Appleton,” Hermione confessed. She stopped trying to hide what she was doing and returned the book to its proper spot in her charmed bag.

 

Malfoy shook his head and muttered, “Only you.”

 

Quiet fell between them once more. Hermione graciously refused a biscuit and Malfoy passed it back to Apollo. Hermione gave up trying to guess Malfoy’s motives for being kind because it was giving her a headache and they had hours yet to go.

 

“Have you got Muggle friends?” the wizard asked.

 

“I did but we’ve lost touch.”

 

“Did any of them know you’re a witch?”

 

After a moment, Hermione shook her head.

 

“Why not?”

 

“It would have caused too many problems. They’d have wanted me to perform tricks or solve all of their problems with magic,” Hermione said slowly. “They wouldn’t have understood.”

 

“I had a Muggle friend once,” Malfoy said, staring sightlessly out at the snow.

 

“You -  you did?” Hermione asked incredulously.

 

Malfoy turned a haunted look on her and gave an empty grin, “Yeah, I know. Never seen my dad so angry…” The wizard shrugged.

 

“He made sure Crabbe, Goyle and MacMillan came round a lot after that.”

 

“How did you meet a Muggle..?” Hermione asked carefully.

 

Malfoy’s grin began to fill with warmth, “I ran away from my mother in Salisbury one day – her last shopping venture in a Muggle city, mind you – and got lost. A boy just older than me took me to the nearby Wiltshire Constabulary office. He stayed there with me until my father showed up… I don’t remember his name… He came to the manor once when my father wasn’t home but that was the only time…”

 

Hermione remained quiet, easily visualizing how furious Lucius Malfoy must have been to find his son in the company of a Muggle boy.

 

As if Malfoy read her mind, he smirked and said, “My father said the same thing to me that you just said: Muggles wouldn’t understand.” As an afterthought, Malfoy wrinkled his nose and added, “He said a lot of other things, too, but I won’t go into that.”

 

A grin twisted on Hermione’s lips before she could suppress it. She could only imagine what else Lucius Malfoy had to say about Muggles. Emboldened by Malfoy’s cordial sharing, Hermione asked the question that had been bothering her the past six months.

 

“Why did you become an Auror..?”

 

“Tsk, tsk, Granger. You’re worse than Rita Skeeter,” he chided.

 

“I am nothing like that cow,” Hermione announced, crossing her arms over her chest. Malfoy’s eyes glittered at her.

 

“Are you just trying to avoid the question?” she giggled, forgetting for a moment that he was her school-years nemesis and playfully casting sparks towards him.

 

Malfoy had an odd look on his face. It sobered Hermione and she stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He looked pained and admiring… What was that about?

 

“Are you alright?” she asked without worrying that she was speaking to someone unworthy of her concern. She wasn’t sure that was the case any longer, anyhow.

 

Malfoy suddenly glowered and turned his gaze resolutely to the house.

 

“Fine,” he said through his teeth.

 

Hermione’s brows went up but she shrugged off the wizard’s strange behavior and retrieved her notebook. She fell asleep wondering what on earth was ruling Malfoy’s moods.

 

After a lengthy yawn, Hermione became aware that she was not in her bed. She blinked, trying to figure out what she was looking at and why there was a shoulder under her cheek. She remembered and sat up quickly.

 

“Sorry,” she said. “How long was I asleep?”

 

“About two hours,” Malfoy said. “I finished your coffee.”

 

“Damn,” Hermione groaned.

 

“Your owl went hunting – if you want to send him back to the manor, I’ll see your thermos gets refilled.”

 

Hermione rubbed her face, “If he comes back, I’ll take you up on that.”

 

After a few silent minutes, Malfoy said “I became an Auror to see if I could do it.”

 

“I see,” Hermione replied, not knowing what else to say. There was no way that was a lie – it was too boring. “Do you enjoy the work?”

 

“I don’t hate it,” Malfoy shrugged. “And it’s not as if I’ve got anything else to do.”

 

“Managing your money isn’t a full-time job..?”

 

“Not while my father’s doing it.”

 

Hermione hesitated before asking her next question; it was just as personal as the others Malfoy’d dodged.

 

“What did your father think of you becoming an Auror?” Hermione thought for a moment that the wizard simply wasn’t going to reply but then he smirked.

 

“He damn near threw me out of the manor… Things have cooled off since I moved into a separate wing.”

 

“You could just move out on your own,” Hermione reasoned.

 

Malfoy chuckled, “One step at a time, Granger.”

 

Hermione was surprised to find herself grinning back at him. She was actually enjoying their conversation.

 

“Since we’re being chummy for the moment, I think I should tell you that I read your aura while you were asleep earlier,” Hermione said.

 

Malfoy glared at her; “You _are_ worse than Skeeter.”

 

“Please don’t compare me to that awful woman!” Hermione exasperated.

 

“…Well, what did you find?” Malfoy asked guardedly.

 

“That you’re in love – who is she?” Hermione asked in an excited rush. She was ridiculously curious and their conversation was a welcome distraction from boredom.

 

Malfoy scowled at her, “I’m not discussing that with you.”

 

“Why not? I’m an objective third-party and a girl – consider me a sympathetic ear.”

 

The wizard snorted and crossed his arms over his chest; “I can’t believe _you_ are prying into my love life.”

 

“Does she know..?” Hermione prodded further.

 

Malfoy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, “No.”

 

“Are you going to tell her?”

 

“No.”

 

“Is she married?”

 

“No.”

 

“Engaged, then?”

 

“No – give it rest, would you?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. This is way too much fun!” Hermione grinned.

 

“If she’s not taken, she must be unsuitable… Does that mean that your family wouldn’t approve?” Hermione reasoned, scandalized.

 

“Given time, I think they would.”

 

“Malfoy, you’ve got to tell her how you feel,” Hermione breathed.

 

“Why have I got to?” Malfoy retorted, obviously annoyed.

 

He couldn’t be too annoyed, though; he was still answering her questions.

 

“She might feel the same about you.”

 

“That’s unlikely – here’s your owl,” Malfoy nodded towards Hermione’s window.

 

Apollo settled into the backseat with his catch and Hermione told Malfoy that he should at least ask his mystery woman on a date.

 

“We’ll see,” he replied with finality.

 

“Fine. I want that coffee you promised,” Hermione said, holding her arm out for Apollo. She passed the giant bird to the wizard and Apollo was off to Malfoy Manor kitchens once more.

 

A loud crack preceded the appearance of Neville Longbottom in the backseat of the sedan.

 

“Morning,” he said, sparing quick glances at the two Aurors before craning around to look at the Appleton house.

 

“Hi, Neville,” Hermione greeted her boss.

 

“All quiet I see – and both of you still alive?”

 

Malfoy snorted and Hermione leapt on the opportunity to report, in detail, that Edward Appleton was sleeping and nothing exciting had happened.

 

“Malfoy and I were just discussing the theory that Susan was probably the sole target,” she added.

 

Neville nodded and turned back around to lean over the seat, “Intelligence reports say the same. You two might as well head home for the night but I do want a report filed tomorrow.”

 

Without another word, Neville Disapparated. Hermione frowned, wishing things had been less hard on her friend. Neville the Auror barely resembled the boy she’d known in school.

 

“Home, then?” Malfoy said, starting the engine.

 

Hermione nodded; Apollo would know where to find her.

 

The ride back to her building was quiet; Neville’s abrupt visit had induced a melancholy mood to envelope Hermione. When the car stopped, Hermione mechanically gathered her things.

 

“Granger?”

 

“Yeah?” she asked distractedly.

 

“You seem upset,” he said.

 

“I am a little – and I’m tired.”

 

“Do you want to meet tomorrow for lunch and talk?”

 

“Alright,” Hermione said with a glassy nod as she climbed out of the car.

 

It wasn’t until she was dumping her things onto her kitchen table that Hermione realized that Draco Malfoy had asked her out for a date.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for pips_n_chiaw for the dmhgficexchange. Thanks to bunney for the brainstorming, cunning_croft for the beta and my flist for putting up with my constant whining.  
> Originally published Nov. 22, 2007


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